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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25728382">Of Course I Care</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAsexualofSpades/pseuds/TheAsexualofSpades'>TheAsexualofSpades</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Quarantine Drabbles [134]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Merlin (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Arthur needs help taking care of his smol, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Protective Lancelot (Merlin), Sir Leon the Long Suffering, can be platonic or romantic you decide, everyone ships it, it's mostly implied tho, that tag's funny again!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:56:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,932</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25728382</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAsexualofSpades/pseuds/TheAsexualofSpades</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin has anxiety and it’s a tricky thing to deal with. only Lancelot seems to help. Arthur is tired of feeling helpless. He goes to Lancelot to learn how to help Merlin.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gaius &amp; Merlin (Merlin), Gwaine &amp; Merlin (Merlin), Lancelot &amp; Merlin (Merlin), Lancelot/Merlin (Merlin), Leon &amp; Merlin (Merlin), Merlin &amp; Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Quarantine Drabbles [134]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1677655</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>887</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Merlin and his lovers, one hole shy of perfection</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Of Course I Care</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thanks to alittletoo-obsessed on tumblr for the idea!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fandom: Merlin (BBC)</p><p>Prompt: Merlin has anxiety and it’s a tricky thing to deal with. only Lancelot seems to help. Arthur is tired of feeling helpless. He goes to Lancelot to learn how to help Merlin. —alittletoo-obsessed</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Lancelot sets down the sword and holds out a waterskin to Arthur. The man takes it, glancing back at the training grounds where the rest of the knights are, smiling a little at Percival lifting Gwaine off his feet.</p><p> </p><p>“They are…exuberant,” Lancelot muses, following his gaze, “are they not?”</p><p> </p><p>Arthur snorts. “They’re children. Overgrown children in armor.”</p><p> </p><p>“Perhaps.” Lancelot looks back at him. His hands are tense, he does not look his normal self. “Are you well, sire? I can imagine that you would not normally choose to speak with me alone.”</p><p> </p><p>“No,” Arthur agrees, shaking his head, “but I need your help, Lancelot.”</p><p> </p><p>“Anything you require.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s about Merlin.”</p><p> </p><p>Lancelot feels himself stand straighter. “Merlin?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.” Arthur sets down the waterskin and folds his arms. “I need you to tell me how to help him.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Merlin had some…strange habits. Some of them were just from living in Ealdor as opposed to Camelot, some of them were just Merlin not knowing how a normal servant behaves—Arthur didn’t mind those so much anymore, in fact, they were oddly charming—but some of them…some of them made Arthur worry.</p><p> </p><p>At first, he’d laughed them off, saying that Merlin was simply strange and weird and that was a <em>him </em>problem, that Arthur wasn’t going to worry about it past whether or not it made him look foolish.</p><p> </p><p>He rolled his eyes when Merlin would freak out during a hunt.</p><p> </p><p>He saw how Merlin’s eyes went wide during nights in the forest and insisted if he was so wide awake, he could keep watch, not bothering to wonder why he would always wake the next morning as opposed to halfway through.</p><p> </p><p>He used to be grateful for how Merlin would purposely linger as far away from Arthur at the center of every feast, preferring to skulk in the shadows, only emerging when Arthur’s cup needed refilling.</p><p> </p><p>Arthur’s not exactly sure when he started wondering about these habits of Merlin’s. Perhaps it was when Merlin’s hands had shaken so badly he’d spilled the crossbow bolts. Perhaps it was when Arthur had grown a little suspicious that Merlin wasn’t letting him take a watch and insisted he go to sleep first only for Merlin to stay awake, doggedly counting under his breath. Perhaps it was when he caught Merlin sneaking away from a feast and followed him, ready to berate him for shirking his duties only for the words to freeze in his throat as he watched Merlin dry-heave over a nearby railing.</p><p> </p><p>He’d stood there, not knowing what to do, as Merlin’s back tensed under his thin tunic. Even in his heavy cloak and ceremonial dress, Arthur had to pull it a little closer around himself to fight the chill. Merlin had only his everyday tunic—well, his <em>nicest </em>everyday tunic—and Arthur had been sure he was freezing.</p><p> </p><p>Arthur’s pretty sure that was the last of the incidents before he really started paying attention.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Lancelot raises an eyebrow. “You…forgive me, you want me to help you with Merlin?”</p><p> </p><p>Arthur nods, his arms still folded.</p><p> </p><p>“…sire, with all due respect, I half expected this conversation to be the other way around.”</p><p> </p><p>Arthur huffs. “You and I both know that’s not true.”</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p> </p><p>“He doesn’t come to me for help,” Arthur says, bitterness coloring his tone, “he goes to you.”</p><p> </p><p>Unbidden, a rising tide of irritation makes Lancelot fold his arms too. “Is that a problem, sire?”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s my servant.”</p><p> </p><p>Lancelot barely twitches. Arthur can do better than that.</p><p> </p><p>Arthur knows it too, and in a moment, Arthur’s arms relax, his hands coming to rest by his sides. He takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose.</p><p> </p><p>“Merlin is my servant,” he says again, “which means I am responsible for his well-being, at least some. And I…I cannot do what he needs me to do. And you can.”</p><p> </p><p>“Better,” Lancelot says, “but you are still missing something.”</p><p> </p><p>Arthur glares at him. “Since when have <em>you </em>been like this with me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Since Merlin’s not around to do it for me.”</p><p> </p><p>He concedes with a nod of his head. Then he closes his eyes, biting his lip as he searches for the right words.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Unlike his father did, Arthur doesn’t have some mystical aura that makes him immune to Gaius’s eyebrow raises. He thinks it has something to do with the fact that Gaius is easily old enough to be his grandfather, but he pushes that train of thought aside in favor of <em>addressing </em>said eyebrow raise.</p><p> </p><p>“What? It’s a perfectly valid question!”</p><p> </p><p>“Sire, you just asked me what is wrong with Merlin without giving me <em>any </em>details that might help me answer you.” Gaius takes off his glasses and lays them aside. “So, let me ask <em>you </em>a question. What makes you think something is wrong with Merlin?”</p><p> </p><p>Arthur huffs. “Because he’s acting strange.”</p><p> </p><p>“And you are coming to <em>me </em>instead of going to Merlin?”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re the physician,” Arthur argues, “that’s your job, isn’t it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, as thrilled as I am that you seem to know what my job entails,” Gaius says dryly, “I am most decidedly <em>not </em>the right person to ask.”</p><p> </p><p>“But you’re his guardian! You spend the most time with him, you know him better than anyone else!”</p><p> </p><p>“As a matter of fact, I don’t.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t what?”</p><p> </p><p>“Spend the most time with him,” Gaius replies, getting on with whatever potion he’s making now, “in fact, I believe <em>you </em>do, sire.”</p><p> </p><p>Arthur clenches his fists. “But he’s <em>told </em>you things he hasn’t told me, so I—“</p><p> </p><p>“And you think I will tell these things to you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes!”</p><p> </p><p>“Why?”</p><p> </p><p>The question catches Arthur off guard. “Because…because he’s my servant.”</p><p> </p><p>“And he is my ward, as you so kindly pointed out.” Gaius levels a stare at him. “It is not my duty to betray Merlin’s trust. It is <em>yours </em>to figure out why not knowing something about Merlin has you bursting into my chambers.”</p><p> </p><p>“But I…” Arthur trails off. Why…why <em>hasn’t </em>Merlin told him. And…and how can he figure out what to do?</p><p> </p><p>“I expect,” Gaius says, right before he kicks Arthur out, respectfully of course, “that you must ask those questions of <em>yourself.</em>”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“Merlin is the only friend I’ve had,” Arthur says finally, “that would do anything to help me, regardless of his own wellbeing. I…the least I can do is be able to help <em>him </em>when he needs it.”</p><p> </p><p>Lancelot smiles. “There you go.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why was that so bloody difficult?”</p><p> </p><p>“I imagine you’re not used to it,” Lancelot says offhandedly, setting aside his gauntlets. He’s not going to need his armor for the rest of the training session at this rate, so he might as well remove it now. “Now, you must tell me what you know.”</p><p> </p><p>“About?”</p><p> </p><p>“Merlin.”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s from Ealdor, he lives with Gaius, he—“</p><p> </p><p>“I meant,” Lancelot breaks in, unable to keep the mirth from shining in his eyes, “about <em>this.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“O-oh.” Arthur coughs and Lancelot politely refrains from commenting on the spots of red high up on Arthur’s cheeks. “He…he doesn’t like loud places. Places where there are lots of people and lots of noise.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, and?”</p><p> </p><p>“He likes to be notified of events well in advance,” Arthur continues, furrowing his brow, “so he can be well-prepared for them.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mhm.”</p><p> </p><p>“He prefers to stand close to Gaius or Gwen at most affairs.” Arthur shuffles. “Or one of you lot, or me. But he can’t always do that because he’s…”</p><p> </p><p>“A servant.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right.”</p><p> </p><p>Lancelot moves the sword a little further away to give himself more room on the table. “Anything else?”</p><p> </p><p>Arthur glances back toward the castle. There’s a few moments of silence. Then he takes a step closer to Lancelot and lowers his voice.</p><p> </p><p>“He startles very easily,” he mumbles, concern unmistakable in his tone, “and at points, it seems like he…sort of shuts down. He doesn’t talk at all and it…worries me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I can see that.” Lancelot can, in fact, see that Arthur is indeed very worried about his servant.</p><p> </p><p>He’s not too proud to admit he’s happy that Merlin trusts him enough to help him through the difficult moments, and definitely not too proud to admit he hoards that trust with a protectiveness that startles him at times. That same protectiveness that caused him to interrogate the king as a father would his daughter’s latest suitor.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Perhaps it is not yet time for that conversation.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>But Arthur has been true. He is genuinely concerned about the health and safety of his servant and he’s been observant enough to know that Lancelot is whom Merlin goes to for help.</p><p> </p><p>And, quite honestly, Lancelot has a feeling Arthur’s going to be even better at this than he is.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright,” he says finally, “I’ll help you.”</p><p> </p><p>The relief on Arthur’s face is palpable. “Thank you, Lancelot.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, thank <em>you,</em>” the knight says, smiling, “for caring enough to seek me out. And, er, I must apologize for my behavior.”</p><p> </p><p>Arthur waves him off. “You’re being protective. I understand.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, I suppose you do.”</p><p> </p><p>“Now, what can I do to help?”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Everything’s going wrong. The banquet is tomorrow and Merlin can’t do anything right.</p><p> </p><p>Arthur’s favorite tunic is missing. He’s scoured the laundry rooms three times and gone over Arthur’s chambers with a fine-toothed comb at least five times. He even ran to the kitchens to see if he left it in there. He didn’t.</p><p> </p><p>The speech isn’t done. He stayed up all night trying to make sure it was good enough but it isn’t. He knows it isn’t. He tried, he really did, but he didn’t try hard enough. He should’ve done better for Arthur.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t know who’s coming. Gaius doesn’t know either. And if he doesn’t know then he can’t protect Arthur and then he’ll lose him forever and—</p><p> </p><p>Merlin rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, watching the colors and shapes swirl behind his closed lids. He should find Lancelot. Lancelot helps. But Lancelot’s training today which means he’ll have to go outside and that means he has to be a person.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t want to be a person. He’ll mess it up again. The others are gonna judge him and they’ll make him an outcast and he’ll be miserable and he’ll spill something over one of the knights and they’ll all hate him—</p><p> </p><p>Merlin gasps, the thick black tar spreading over his lungs making it impossible to breathe. It hurts to draw breath so Merlin doesn’t want to do that because he doesn’t want it to hurt but he can’t not breathe so he has to breathe and he’s wasting time, he has to get up, he has to find Arthur’s shirt, he has to finish the speech, he has to figure out how to save Arthur’s life—</p><p> </p><p>What if it’s too late? What if they’ve already gotten to Arthur?</p><p> </p><p>Merlin winces as the new scenarios crash painfully against the insides of his skull, sending him hurtling over another cliff, down, down, down into the black. He pulls his limbs in, curling on himself, trying to squeeze the thoughts out. It hurts.</p><p> </p><p>“Merlin?”</p><p> </p><p>Arthur? Arthur? Arthur isn’t dead? He’s here?</p><p> </p><p>Arthur is mad. Arthur is mad his tunic isn’t here. Arthur is mad about the speech. Arthur is mad about Merlin wasting time.</p><p> </p><p>“There you are!”</p><p> </p><p>Arthur is going to throw him out. Arthur is going to yell at him. Arthur is going to hate him.</p><p> </p><p>“Merlin, Merlin, can you hear me?”</p><p> </p><p>Arthur is mad. Arthur is mad. Hide from Arthur.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, Merlin, I need you to take a deep breath for me…come on…”</p><p> </p><p>Arthur is…Lancelot? Arthur is helping? Arthur…cares?</p><p> </p><p>Merlin gasps, trying to follow the exaggerated slow breaths coming from in front of him. He can’t make it all the way but he’s trying, he’s trying, he’s trying.</p><p> </p><p>“In for four, come on…one…two…three…four.”</p><p> </p><p>Merlin can’t make it all the way to four but Arthur doesn’t seem to mind.</p><p> </p><p>“Now let’s hold for seven…one…two…three…four—that’s alright, five…six…seven.”</p><p> </p><p>Squeezing his eyes shut, Merlin makes an effort to focus on the slow counting instead of the panic coursing through his veins. It’s…easier, he has to admit, then it has been for a while.</p><p> </p><p>“Now out for eight, you’re doing well…one…two…three...four…five…six…seven…eight.”</p><p> </p><p>It only takes four breaths for Merlin to be able to follow along with all of the counting. Arthur murmurs that he’s doing a good job, keep doing that, is it alright if I touch you?</p><p> </p><p>Merlin nods.</p><p> </p><p>A gentle hand tucks itself behind Merlin’s calf, tugging carefully. Merlin lets it coax his legs to lie flat, winding his arms tightly around his middle to make up for it. After it straightens his second leg, it lingers on his ankle, still tapping out the rhythm for him to breathe.</p><p> </p><p>He opens his eyes, wary that he’s summoned some imaginary person, only to see Arthur crouching next to him, hand tapping away. He smiles softly.</p><p> </p><p>“Hello, Merlin,” he murmurs, “can you speak?”</p><p> </p><p>“Y-yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good. That’s good, Merlin.” Arthur starts rubbing soothing circles into his leg. “Can you name five things you can see?”</p><p> </p><p>“…the bed…the wardrobe…it’s sunny outside. The desk. You.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good job. What about four things you can touch?”</p><p> </p><p>Merlin runs his hands over his tunic. “My shirt. The floor. The wall. And, um, you.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re doing really well,” Arthur murmurs, “three things you can hear?”</p><p> </p><p>“You,” Merlin replies immediately, “er, there’s a cart going past outside, and…the wind.”</p><p> </p><p>“Almost there, alright? Two things you can smell?”</p><p> </p><p>“Wine…horses.”</p><p> </p><p>“And one thing you can taste?”</p><p> </p><p>Merlin licks his lips. “Salt.”</p><p> </p><p>“Great job, Merlin,” Arthur smiles, “you did really well.”</p><p> </p><p>“H-how did you—“</p><p> </p><p>“Lancelot.” Arthur eases himself down to sit on the floor. “I asked him how to help you.”</p><p> </p><p>Arthur had to ask someone how to help…Merlin? Is he that much of an inconvenience? He doesn’t realize he’s slipping dangerously close to another edge until Arthur says: “Hey, <em>hey,” </em>in a voice so achingly gentle Merlin’s chest burns.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s no bother,” Arthur murmurs, somehow cutting right to the heart of it, “in fact, I should have gone a lot sooner.”</p><p> </p><p>“W-why?”</p><p> </p><p>Arthur smiles, lifting his hand to tuck something behind Merlin’s ear. “To look after my Merlin, of course.”</p><p> </p><p>Unable to tear his gaze away from Arthur’s face, Merlin blindly gropes for whatever it is behind his ear, eyes widening when he sees it’s a…</p><p> </p><p>“…flower?”</p><p> </p><p>“You still like them, don’t you?” Arthur scoots a little closer, his legs against the wall as he watches Merlin start running his fingers over the flower. “I remember when I’m off hunting and you’re setting up camp, I would come back to see you all finished, toying with a few.”</p><p> </p><p>Merlin nods. He…it helps him focus on something else. Gaius helped him figure out how to do it. But…</p><p> </p><p>“I never told Lancelot that.”</p><p> </p><p>“No,” Arthur murmurs, eyes still fixed on Merlin’s face, “but I noticed.”</p><p> </p><p>Oh.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Oh.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Now,” Arthur says quietly, “now that you’re breathing a little easier, and you’ve got your flower, do you mind telling me what upset you so much?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s nothing.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t believe that for a second,” Arthur teases lightly, “come on…you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s stupid.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then we’ll be smart about it.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’ll laugh.”</p><p> </p><p>A gentle hand takes his chin. “Never.”</p><p> </p><p>Arthur’s hands are so much <em>warmer </em>than Lancelot’s.</p><p> </p><p>Before he can stop himself, the tale spills out of him. It’s almost as if the hand on Merlin’s chin draws it out for Arthur. He wouldn’t put it past his magic.</p><p> </p><p>Arthur listens without complaint, without judgment, and without laughing. He points out that he wasn’t expecting any speech, so the sheer fact that Merlin’s written him one is a pleasant surprise. He says that the banquet is for a visiting lord from the northern kingdom, not something they have to be overly concerned about.</p><p> </p><p>“And…what about your tunic?”</p><p> </p><p>In response, Arthur looks down at his chest, then back up to Merlin. “Well, I have an incredibly considerate and thoughtful servant who had the foresight to dress me in it today to make sure it still fits.”</p><p> </p><p>He…he did do that, didn’t he?</p><p> </p><p>“It’s alright, Merlin,” Arthur murmurs, “everything is alright.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s alright.</p><p> </p><p>Merlin’s starting to believe it again.</p><p> </p><p>He believes it more when Arthur pulls him gently to his feet and asks if there’s anything else he needs.</p><p> </p><p>He believes it more when Arthur takes him aside before the banquet and says he’s more than happy for Merlin to stay by his side if he needs to or to go to someone else.</p><p> </p><p>He believes it more when he has to duck outside because it’s too much and Arthur’s right behind him, step by step, sitting him down somewhere quiet and starting a rant about how <em>frustrating </em>the visiting lord is.</p><p> </p><p>Lancelot watches them leave with a smile. Good for Arthur, he thinks as he turns back to the other knights, realizing that he cares this much about Merlin.</p><p> </p><p>Lancelot just hopes he knows he has to go to Gwaine and Leon for the ‘break his heart and we’ll kill you’ speech.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! Come yell at me on tumblr while we're all in quarantine. </p><p>https://a-small-batch-of-dragons.tumblr.com/</p></blockquote></div></div>
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